Title and Registration
by Narcissa Raie
Summary: How is Logan reacting to the break-up between himself and Rory? Honestly, not so well. He's so melodramatic. It's almost adorable. Oneshot songfic.


Discaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls, Logan, Rory, or Deathcab for Cutie. And I most CERTAINLY do not own a Mercedes Benz. But a girl can dream, right?

A/N: This is probably just going to be a oneshot, unless I'm suddenly inspired to write another Gilmore Girls related songfic. I've never written any fanfictions that weren't Harry Potter, so this is pretty new to me. I'm used to pretending to be British. Bear with me. The song is "Title and Registration", by Deathcab for Cutie. It's an excellent song. I suggest you check it out.

The glove compartment in his Mercedes Benz flew open as he drove over some railroad tracks. He hadn't closed it properly. He glared at it as if it had bitten him, and slammed it shut.

_The glove compartment is inaccurately named, and everybody knows it._

He had not been pleased when he rediscovered its contents.

_So I'm proposing a swift, orderly change._

There most certainly were no gloves inside; not even a pair of mittens.

'_Cause behind its door, there's nothing to keep my fingers warm._

There had been exactly three photographs, an engagement ring he couldn't bring himself to get rid of, and a Chap Stick she had once accidentally left in the cup holder. He remembered it had always made her lips taste of vanilla.

_And all I find are souvenirs from better times._

She had said no, and he left for the west coast as quickly as possible.

_Before the gleam of your taillights fading east, to find yourself a better life._

He had moved in a month ago, and had just been pulled over for the first time since his arrival. That was when he came across these pieces of evidence that he had been avidly trying to block out from his memory.

_I was searching for some legal documents,_

He had smiled his ever-charming smile at the female police officer, who was shielding herself from the rain in a blue poncho. She had visibly swooned, as many other women before her, and let him go with no more than a warning.

_As the rain beat down on the hood._

She had not seen him cry as she was leaving. He had pulled out a picture of them at his parent's lake house, both smiling as the water rested serenely behind them. The second was of her grinning goofily and generally looking ridiculous at her grandparent's vow-renewal. The final one was at her graduation, just before it had come crashing down. They both looked happy, but he could see now, under closer inspection, that she looked troubled. Tight lipped, eyes almost dead. Her mind was in a different place. A place where she would be leaving him.

_As I stumbled upon pictures I tried to forget. _

_And that's how this idea was drilled into my head._

Of course, Rory hadn't realized that it would end completely. But as she said no, Logan knew they wouldn't survive the after effects.

'_Cause it's too important to stay the way it's been._

He wasn't sure of the exact time when he realized they were drifting, or if he'd even consciously realized it at all.

_And there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade._

Thinking back on it now, it almost seemed like a dream.

_And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all._

At whatever instance he had realized it, was about the time he bought the ring. He thought an engagement would fix everything. He was essentially pushing her into marriage.

_And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide,_

The idea that it may have been him that ruined it after all left him restless. He didn't sleep, he rarely ate, and when home alone he was simply a disaster.

_Lying awake at night._

He pulled into his driveway, bringing most of the contents of his glove compartment with him. He lit his stove. It was an original gas burner, none of the electric nonsense.

_And there's no blame for how our love did slowly fade._

He took a last look at the remaining photographs, and then slowly burned them over the flame until they were mere ashes. He threw the Chap Stick into the trashcan.

_And now that it's gone, it's like it wasn't there at all._

He looked at the ring, unsure of what to do next.

_And here I rest where disappointment and regret collide,_

He went to his bedroom and gingerly put it in the drawer of his nightstand, and lowered himself into bed. The ring could be dealt with another day.

_Laying awake at night, up all night._

He closed his eyes. He knew that, once again, sleep would not come.

_When I'm lying awake at night._

A/N: I'd really like to hear your thoughts! Review it up! Make me smile! Tell a joke! Tell me a story about your goldfish! I don't care, just say something! Beaucoup love, ladies and gents.


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